"You broke the law, Bruce, when you let Joe go. For that I could run you in. But all Joe done was steal a pocketful of nuggets, and we got them back. And there's bigger things than that, anyway. You and me has been friends and so I'll go slow. But we got to have another talk. You've got me down wrong, old-timer." Never had Lynette Brooke seen such utter contempt as that which now filled Bruce Standing's eyes. But he made no answer. At this moment the man Ricky came in with a gallon earthen jug and began to pour out the glasses set upon a table. Here was the Timber-Wolf's hundred-dollar treat. Standing himself waved it aside and: "I drink no poison in this house," he said briefly. And as he spoke he saw for the first time Babe Deveril standing just inside the door, not two steps behind him. "By the Lord, Babe, I'm glad to see you! Shake!" he shouted, thrusting out his big hand. But now it was Deveril's turn to be cool and contemptuous. "You and I, Bruce Standing," he said in that clear, insolent voice of his, "have gone a long way beyond the point of shaking hands." Standing frowned as he muttered: "Don't be a young ass, Babe." But Deveril only shook his head, retorting: "I have come, according to promise, for a word with you. Suppose we make it snappy." "The same little Baby Devil!" Standing jeered at him, making Deveril stiffen with that look of his eyes. "I'll give you a new dance tune before I'm through with you. Come ahead!"--and with a suddenness which took Lynette Brooke by surprise he struck back the door leading to the room where she was and led the way in, Deveril at his heels. But, though there were three or four coal-oil lamps burning in the room which he had just quitted, there was but one here where she was. And because its chimney was smoky and the flame burned crookedly and she was in a dim corner, he could make nothing of the look of her. Had she remained perfectly still he would scarcely have noted her presence. But now she was suddenly impatient to be gone, and went hurrying to a door which led into a hallway, the hallway in turn leading to her room at the back of the house. "A woman," growled Timber-Wolf disgustedly, getting only a glimpse of a hastily departing figure. "It begins to look as though a man couldn't pick him a spot in the wilderness that the female didn't crowd in."